


when you sleep tomorrow

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Coming Untouched, Consensual Non-Consent, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, Rape Roleplay, Roleplay, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 02:43:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18240773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: Klaus is dreaming of a desert, hot and dry, when he realizes something is amiss.





	when you sleep tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> written for [this kink meme prompt](https://umbrellakink.dreamwidth.org/284.html?thread=111132#cmt111132)! cnc is one of my fave kinks so I knew I had to write this. there's not quite as much focus on somnophilia but it's there!
> 
> big thanks to hannah for beta'ing!
> 
> enjoy!

Klaus is dreaming of a desert, hot and dry, when he realizes something is amiss. 

He squirms in bed and shivers when a rush of cool air runs across his exposed back—which is weird, because while he went to bed scantily clad, he had bundled up in three blankets. It’s not quite enough to drag him from the depths of his dream, but it’s close. His dream shifts, sifting like the sand under his feet. The color flickers in and out, the sound fades away, he starts to slip into the sand like it’s swallowing him whole. 

He wakes with a start, gasping for air, choking against the cotton pillow his face is shoved against. Realizations come to him slowly: his cock is hard and he’s grinding lazily against the sheets; his briefs are tangled around his thighs but it’s the legs of someone else that’s keeping him pinned; there’s a cock deep in his ass, splitting him open, hot and hard and  _ what the fuck _ .

“What the fuck?” He mutters, still groggy with sleep. He tries to lift his head but he barely gets an inch off the pillow before a hand knots in his curls and shoves his face back down. “Vu fu—?” He tries to say again, syllables slurred, but the hand presses down harder, fingers tightening in his hair to the point of pain. 

Rather than answering, whoever’s inside him just shoves in deeper. The bed creaks and hits the wall with a  _ thud _ . Klaus writhes as the cock sinks into him to the hilt; he can feel the distinct scrape of pubes against his ass and it’s almost worse than the sensation of being split open, held down, forced to take it.

The hand holding him down finally relents enough for Klaus to turn his face and press his cheek against the pillow and gasp for air. 

“Who the fuck,” he tries to ask, only to be cut off by a dark chuckle.

“Of course you wouldn’t remember me from my cock alone,” Diego growls. “You stayed asleep all the times before.” He crowds against Klaus’ back. He ruts his cock into Klaus in short, sharp thrusts. There’s the distinct jolt of pain as a knife presses against Klaus’ ribs, a warning. “You’ve been so good for me before, Klaus. Sleepy and perfectly open, such a needy slut for my cock.”

“Diego, what?” Klaus’ head is still swimming, he’s still half in the desert from his dreams. His mouth feels like it’s full of gritty sand and he’s still trying to catch his breath. “What’re you doing?” He asks, like he can’t quite believe it.  _ Why Diego, why is Diego—what’s fucking happening? _

Panic overwhelms him abruptly and Klaus starts to struggle. He’s not even sure what’s real and what’s a dream but he gets one arm underneath himself and shoves up, off the bed. He rears his other arm back, elbow pointed, aiming for Diego’s face. 

Diego takes him down almost comically quickly. He curls his arm under Klaus’ and wraps it around his shoulder, putting him in something like a sleeper hold. Klaus can’t move his arm without an ache erupting in his elbow. Diego reaches around and yanks at the hand pressed to the bed, bends Klaus’ arm and holds it against the small of his back. 

Klaus falls inelegantly forward and Diego pins him to the bed like a dead weight. The only movement is in the swivel of his hips. It’s direct, ruthless. The pleasure burns but Diego doesn’t seem to care about anything but his own satisfaction. Diego’s stubble scrapes over Klaus’ bare shoulder as he leans in to whisper.

“You’re just so fucking pretty,” Diego says. “Prancing around in your skirts, your little crop tops. You’re such a  _ slut _ .” 

Klaus whines as Diego thrusts forward harder. He feels helpless and his arms are stretched, contorted in a way he’s not used to. They hurt, ache, his muscles burn. He tries to use his core to lift off the bed but Diego’s weight against his back is like an anvil, and the longer Diego stays there, the harder it gets to breathe. 

“You’ve always wanted my cock, haven’t you?” Another pointed thrust and this one just  _ burns _ . Klaus’ eyes water.

“Lube,” he gasps against the sheets. He keeps getting mouthfuls of sheets when he opens his mouth to breathe and his thoughts are swimming. 

“You’re fine. You’re sopping wet for me, aren’t you, whore?”

Klaus’ body burns with shame and he presses his face against the sheets for a moment, letting them absorb his tears. They’re coming quick and unbidden now and every other pant for air is a shuddering, watery gasp. 

Diego’s chuckle is dark and low in his ear. “Been doing this for months. I’m surprised you didn’t wake up sooner. You’d moan and writhe for me, cuz you love my dick so much. But you never once opened your eyes. Those drugs really work wonders.”

“I’ve been sober,” Klaus tries to respond. It’s hard to focus. 

“Not those drugs. The ones I slip into your drinks.” Diego sounds far too pleased with himself; delighted, even. “Knock you out so perfectly. Guess I got the dose wrong tonight.”

Diego groans loudly as he thrusts in. His whole body shakes as he grinds his dick inside Klaus. He doesn’t even pull out so much as he just pushes forward, forward, forward. The angle is all wrong so the pleasure is minimal for Klaus, but his cock is still hard and almost feels like it’s rubbing raw underneath him. 

“Just as well,” Diego moans. “Like the way you cry, baby. Dick’s too good, huh?” Diego tightens his hold on Klaus’ arm, the one bent at an odd angle, before letting go. The nerve endings are numb and tingling, so the arm falls limply to Klaus’ side. With his newly freed hand, Diego reaches around and curls his fingers around Klaus’ neck. 

Klaus gulps, and his adam’s apple struggles to bob against Diego’s iron grip. 

“How can you be so  _ tight _ ,” Diego murmurs, not really a question. “When you’re such a god damn whore?” 

“Not,” Klaus whines, “Not a whore.”

Diego bites down  _ hard  _ on Klaus’ ear, tearing a choked off whimper from his throat, and growls, “Yes you are. Say it.”

Klaus tries to shake his head but Diego shifts his grip on his neck to hold his chin instead, forcing him still. “No,” Klaus hisses.

“Say it. You’re my slut, and you love my fucking cock.”

A new wave of tears runs down Klaus’ cheek as he struggles to speak. Breathing is still hard, and the words come out thin and reedy. “I’m your slut,” he pants. “I love your fucking cock.”

“Yeah you do, baby,” Diego says. “Want me inside you all the time, don’t you? Even when you’re sleeping like a baby.”

Diego finally leans back and his weight isn’t quite as oppressive over Klaus. He shifts his grip again and wraps it around Klaus’ throat. His fingers tighten incrementally with each thrust. His hand around Klaus’ arm is turning bruising and the pain is starting to get overwhelming. He’ll feel it tomorrow, he knows, even if his thoughts will be hazy from the drugs. 

Klaus shakes his head and smears his tears over the sheets. “No,” he moans softly. “No, no, no, Diego, please.”

“Please what?” Diego’s still humping against his ass. The bed hits the wall in a nasty rhythm, harmonizing with the slap of Diego’s balls against Klaus’ thighs. “Please come inside you? Fill you up, like the needy little bitch you are?”

Klaus shakes his head frantically, stopped only when Diego truly cuts off his air. “Nuh-nuh,” Klaus rasps. Diego’s grip only tightens. 

“I’m gonna do it.” Diego’s grunting now, groaning throatily between each word. “Gonna fill you up and you won’t remember a fucking thing in the morning. You’re going to be a fucking mess and you won’t know what happened. And then I’ll do it again in a few days. I’d do it every night if I could.”

Klaus whimpers as the head of Diego’s cock finally grazes his prostate, forcing an orgasm from him suddenly, almost painfully. Klaus can’t even moan because he still can’t breathe. He’s not seeing stars quite yet but his moan is nothing more than his mouth dropping open and his bottom lip quivering. Drool slips down the corner of his mouth and tears slide down, salty in his mouth. 

“Fuck,” Diego grunts. His thrusts turn jerky and uneven, messy and hard and  _ brutal _ . “Gonna fill you up,” he says again. “Give you exactly what you fucking need.”

Diego pushes forward one last time and his cock pulses inside Klaus. It’s heavy, burning hot, and the jolts of come feel like electricity. Klaus feels sick as he sobs against the sheets, forced to feel the come shoot deep inside him as Diego’s cock softens. It feels like it goes on for hours; slowly but surely, Diego’s hand around his neck loosens, and he lets go of Klaus’ other arm. 

Diego curls around him gently as he pulls out. Come leaks over the bed but they’ll deal with it in the morning. Diego peppers kisses over Klaus’ shoulders and neck; he nuzzles at Klaus’ sweaty curls. 

“Baby,” he says softly. “You good?” 

Klaus nods. It’s a struggle to speak. His lungs hurt and his neck will be ringed in red-purple bruises. “M’good,” he whispers. “So good.” He reaches a shaking hand back to grasp at Diego’s sweaty hip. “Perfect,” he breathes. “You?”

Diego actually whimpers. “Fuck,” he sighs. “It was...even better than I could ever imagine.” 

Klaus smiles. He melts against Diego; the weight of his brother no longer feels oppressive but instead comforting. “Yeah? The whole ‘done this before’ thing was a perfect touch.”

Diego’s pleased grin burns like a brand against his shoulder. “Thanks, baby.” 

Klaus lets the rest of the tension unwind from his body. They really will wake up sticky and messy the next morning, and it’ll be gross to shower off the come and sweat and lube. Klaus is going to be sore—in his neck, his arms, his ass—and it’s so fucking worth it.

“Perfect,” he breathes again. He turns his head and nuzzles against Diego’s stubbled cheek. “Next time, though…”

“Next time?” Diego murmurs back.

Klaus smirks, even as he feels sleep pulling at him. “Next time, I’m going to “drug” you, and ride you until you cry.”

Diego’s breathing hitches and Klaus falls asleep with a satisfied smile on his face. 


End file.
